I’m twenty reps in, sweat dripping down my back, arms already burning — and I still hear her coming before I see her.

Bare feet padding across the gym floor. The soft rustle of one of my shirts brushing her thighs. I know it’s mine — it always is. She steals them like trophies.

I don’t look up. Don’t need to. I know it’s her. I’d recognize the rhythm of her footsteps anywhere. Light. Confident. A little smug, because she knows she owns me.

“Enjoying the view?” I ask, voice low, breath even despite the workout.

“Nope,” she says, way too cheerful. “Enhancing it.”

I glance down just in time to see her lay flat underneath me on the mat — her hands tucked behind her head, eyes wide, innocent.

Hell no.

“You seriously—” I grunt mid-rep, lowering toward her. She lifts her chin and kisses me. Quick. Soft. Just a brush of lips.

My brain stalls. Muscles keep going. That’s dangerous.

“You planning to do that for every push-up?” I ask, hovering just above her, brow raised.

She grins up at me like she’s made of sunlight and trouble. “Only if you keep coming down.”

I drop again. Another kiss. This one longer.

I shouldn’t like this. She’s throwing off my rhythm, distracting me, and I’m supposed to be focused.

But I do like it.

More than I should.

Push-up. Kiss. Push-up. Kiss. Giggle.

God, the sound of her laughing beneath me is going to mess me up worse than anything I’ve faced in a ring. I’ve been shot at. Fought grown men twice my size. Watched people lie, cheat, betray. But this?

This is what kills me.

Because she doesn’t even realize what she does to me. Not fully. She thinks this is a game. Something light.

She doesn’t know that every time she touches me, I fall a little harder.

Push-up. Kiss.

My arms are starting to shake now — and not from the reps. From how close she is. From the way her fingers are brushing my ribs like she owns every part of me.

And she does.

I stop. Just hover there, locked above her, our noses almost touching.

“You’re driving me insane,” I mutter.

“Good,” she whispers. “That’s my job.”

I drop to my elbows and rest on top of her, chest pressing against hers, my forehead to hers.

I should be annoyed. She’s distracting. Irritating. Completely in the way.

But all I can think is, if anyone else tried to pull this, I’d throw them out of the gym. Hell, out of my life.

But her?

She can take up my whole damn world and I’d still ask her to stay.

“You know,” I say, voice low, “you’re lucky I like you.”

Her hands slide around my neck. She pulls me the rest of the way down.

“No,” she murmurs, smiling against my mouth. “You love me.”

I kiss her like that’s the only truth I’ve ever known.

And it is.